


Break Me

by HeadmasterFelix, karasusi



Series: Steter [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad BDSM Etiquette, Biting, Blood and Injury, Bondage, Brief Non-Consensual Violence, Consensual Violence, Dubiously Consensual Violence, Happy Ending, Heavy BDSM, I'm not kidding, Jealousy, Knotting, M/M, Mentioned Lydia Martin, Minor CBT, Minor Peter Hale/Lydia Martin, Peter goes too far, Restraints, Senior year Stiles, Subspace, Threats of Violence, Violence, Werewolf features, makeshift bondage tools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2017-01-07
Packaged: 2018-07-29 20:23:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7698208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadmasterFelix/pseuds/HeadmasterFelix, https://archiveofourown.org/users/karasusi/pseuds/karasusi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Stiles have been deeply involved in a loving, if somewhat permanent D/s, relationship for a few months, and Stiles has generally been pretty good about respecting his Alpha. Today, though, the subject of Lydia Martin comes up, and Stiles loses his cool. Jealous and hurt, Peter makes sure his new pup will never dare speak to him that way again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not A/B/O dynamics, and Peter doesn't actually have Alpha status. Stiles just called Peter 'Alpha' because it fits better than 'Master' or 'Daddy'. 
> 
> For background on how they got together, see the thread on my RP tumblr [Take It Out On Me](http://dontwannaberobin.tumblr.com/tagged/rp%3A+take+it+out+on+me/chrono)
> 
> Heavily inspired by my own beloved Peter Hale
> 
> Who has now authored chapter four and been added as co-author.

Stiles tried to hide his grin as he checked his phone under the desk during Homeroom.

[Alpha]: You better be keeping that plug in all day, boy. I filled you so full this morning, Scott's nostrils will burn with my scent if you take it out.  
  
Oh fuck. Yes, sir!  
  
[Stiles]: Oh fuck. Yes, sir.  
  
[Alpha]: Good boy.

[Stiles]: I think Lydia knows I'm texting you. She's giving me this really annoyed look.

[Alpha]: Lydia Martin. Remarkably good kisser.

He paused, squinting at the screen. How would he... he couldn't...  
  
[Stiles]: Like you would know?  
  
[Alpha]: Of course I would. She resurrected me, you know. It wasn't all herbs and abracadabra.  
  
He scoffed openly, Scott shot him a look.

[Stiles]: Oh, what, did it take True Love's Kiss too?

[Alpha]: No. But she did fall in love with me in the process.  
  
[Stiles]: Bullshit. Lydia has better taste than to fall for you.

[Stiles]: Oh, wait, I forgot about Jackson. I guess she doesn't.

{Alpha]: You better watch your tongue, boy. And I assure you, we did a lot more than kiss. But sadly the way she uses her lips is the only truly remarkable thing about her.

No. No, no, no. No fucking way. Stiles turned off the screen and swallowed hard, trying to focus on the lecture in his classroom rather than the thought of Lydia with Peter. Fifteen minutes later, the bell rang just as another text came in.

[Alpha]: What? Did I say something wrong?

[Alpha]: Oh, that's right, you used to have a crush on her, didn't you?

Stiles exhaled shakily, the plug starting to cause him to ache as he became tense.  
  
[Stiles]: No, I didn't have a crush on her. I was in love with her. Big difference.

[Alpha]: Ah, love, of course. My mistake. Well, if it makes you feel better, she wasn't a virgin. Not like you were the first time I knotted you.  
  
He could hardly process what he was reading, it took Scott pushing him to make his feet move towards the next classroom.  
  
[Stiles]: I still love her, so it fucking stings that you were closer to her than I'll ever be. But whatever, I'll get over it. You're my Alpha.  
  
[Alpha]: Do you, boy? Then why don't you tell her?  
  
[Stiles]: It isn't the right time. I'm with you now. If it's meant to be, it'll happen someday. I'm not in a hurry.  
  
[Alpha]: 'Someday?'  
  
[Stiles]: Yeah, as in not today, maybe never.

[Alpha]: Yes, I own a dictionary, I understand the meaning of the word, thank you.

He was in an increasingly bad mood, and Peter certainly wasn't helping. He wanted to stop thinking about it, wanted to not care that his Alpha and the woman he loved had been together in ways more intimate than Stiles would ever experience with her. Feelings of inadequacy bubbled inside of him, the very same that had made him first come to Peter all those weeks ago. He wanted to be wanted, wanted to be consumed and made to not think anymore. His fingers got ahead of him, enacting a half-formed plan that Stiles had no idea the true danger of.  
  
[Stiles]: Oh, you do? Cool. Could you look up the word 'twat'? I think you'll find it very enlightening.  
  
[Alpha]: What did you just say to me?  
  
[Stiles]: Oh, sorry, didn't realize you were at the age where your vision starts to go. I'd be happy to say it to you in person later so that you can understand. Unless you're having trouble with your hearing too?  
  
Several minutes passed, and Stiles was forced to wonder if he had gone too far.

[Alpha]: Take the plug out. Now. You don't deserve to still have me inside of you.  
  
Defiance shot through him at those words. _You make me hurt and then you try to punish me for it? Fuck you._  
  
[Stiles]: No. I like where it is.  
  
[Alpha]: Out.

[Stiles]: You're not even here, so I think I'll just keep doing whatever I want.  
  
That was the last text Stiles got, but as he headed out to his Jeep for open lunch, he found Peter leaning against it, waiting for him with a more neutral expression and posture than he'd ever seen him with before.

_Oh fuck._


	2. Chapter 2

"Keys, boy. I'm driving." His tone was as detached as his body language.

Stiles swallowed, wanting to argue but he was probably in enough trouble already, disobeying a direct order and insulting his Alpha. _Fuck, what was I thinking, calling him that?_ He reached into his pocket and dug out his keys, handing them over and heading for the passenger seat. "Will I be back before the end of lunch?" He asked with a quiet voice.  
  
"No, you won't. Text Scott and tell him that you ditched. Tell him you're on a date and you won't be reachable for a while. I don't need him and his pack trying to find you."  
  
Stiles did as he was told, and sat in silence for the long drive out to wherever they were going. Part of him was fearful, he'd never seen Peter so cold before, never seen him taking precautions about others knowing where he was. Another part of him was looking forward to getting what was coming to him. Being hurt, punished, forced to focus on nothing but Peter, it was exactly what he thought he needed. If his Alpha could train him, make him remember to be a good boy, to always think about and listen to his Alpha, maybe the sting of his affair with Lydia could be forgotten.  
  
Peter took them far out of the town and out onto the preserve. He drove them almost right up to the house, using the Jeep to off road as far as the fallen branches and other debris would allow. When they were close enough, he parked and got out. He didn't need to order Stiles to follow.  
  
His heart was pounding so hard in his chest, seeing the dilapidated home, mind racing with thoughts of why on Earth Peter would have brought him out here. Fear began to overtake excitement. "Alpha," he spoke as he was getting out, staying just a few paces behind the other man. "Alpha, I'm sorry, I-"  
  
He was cut off. "I don't need your apologies, Stiles. I don't care if you're sorry. I'm only interested in making sure you won't repeat your performance, and 'sorry' won't teach you anything."  
  
 _Oh fuck._ His heart fluttered, excited again at the promise of punishment. Still, though, the locale was unnerving at best.  
  
Once they were inside the burnt and crumbling walls, Peter turned to Stiles, arching an eyebrow. "Now. You told me you'd repeat yourself, so go on. Say it."  
  
Stiles tried to read him, tried to figure out what he really wanted, but it was nigh impossible. He opted for the optimistic route - he wanted Peter to be harsh with him, to push him further than he had before, and what better way to ensure that than to be a brat about it? "I... I said that..." his voice came out shaky and nervous. If they were in Peter's apartment, within the comforting beige walls and in his well-appointed bedroom, this would be easy. But here... Stiles shuddered as the environment creeped in subtly more. He tried again, voice intentionally stronger this time. "I said that you might find learning the definition of 'twat' to be enlightening. Might help you correct your behavior."  
  
Peter had to give it to him, the kid was bold. He licked his lips, eyes turning faintly predatory but still quite cold. "Correct _my_ behavior?"

"Yeah. You were kind of a dick today," the words just slipped out, Stiles's mouth trying to get him in trouble as usual.  
  
It was more effective than it usually was, as suddenly Peter had closed the distance, hand coming to grip the boy's throat. "How **dare** you speak to me that way. I took you into my home. I was there for you when no one was, I gave you purpose, made you feel whole and wanted, and you open your ungrateful bitch mouth to give me that?!" He let his claws grow, sinking them slightly into the soft flesh he had his hand wrapped around before pushing Stiles to his knees.   
  
Stiles went down with a faint grunt as his knees hit the dirty floor, wincing as the abrupt stop sent a shock up his spine. He stayed quiet, ready to open his mouth, certain he knew the next step was for Peter to fill it.  
  
"You know how to respectfully disagree with me, boy, I taught you how. Taught you how to communicate like a good boy when I was hurting you, with my words or otherwise. But with language like that, you must have forgotten? That or you're too stupid to follow the rules. Either way, it's time for some reeducation." Peter withdrew his hand. "Kneel."  
  
He was already on his knees, but that word was not that simple between them anymore. Stiles took the proper position, sitting on his feet and tucking his arms behind his back, head raised and attentive to his Alpha.  
  
"Ah, so you are capable of retaining the information I feed you. That's a good start." The condescension was thick. He walked several paces away, examining what could loosely be called the front room of the house. He silently analyzed what supports were stable still, how he could use his environment. He formulated a plan and ignored his boy in the mean time.  
  
Minutes dragged on with no attention, and Stiles felt his hopes of having his mouth stuffed begin to sink. He stayed quiet, fighting all of his urges to speak. That would not help his situation right now and he knew it.  
  
Finally, when he had the schematics all laid out in his head, he turned his focus back to Stiles. "Are you still wearing my plug, boy, or did you think better of your disobedience and take it out?"  
  
His teeth dragged over his lip before he spoke. "Still... still wearing, sir."  
  
Peter gave a displeased grunt. "Stand, strip, wall," he pointed to the one he wanted Stiles against.  
  
Stiles did as he was told without hesitation, getting completely naked despite the filth and bugs, and then putting his hands on the wall and leaning down, hips jutting out and legs spread.  
  
With a click of his tongue, Peter approached his boy. "Take it out, one hand only, and give it to me."  
  
He let out a soft whine as he pulled the small plug out of his tense hole, the suction created as he removed it causing a small amount of hours-old cum to trickle out of him.  
  
"Do you know why I brought you out here, boy?" Peter asked as he took the bit of steel.  
  
Stiles shook his head.  
  
"Because no one ever comes out here. It won't matter how loud you scream or beg or cry, no one will come for you. **Floor**." And with that, he headed back towards the Jeep.  
  
A bolt of fear shot through Stiles, uncertain if Peter meant to scare him, or if he really intended to hurt him that badly - or, perhaps, if he was just going to abandon Stiles out here. With a shaky breath, biting back the uncertainty, he followed his Alpha's order and got onto the floor, belly down and face directly in the soot and ash and god only knows what else. He waited like that for what felt like an eternity.  
  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

Peter came back several minutes later, a box of cable ties, a roll of duct tape, and some bungee cords in hand, items Stiles kept in his Jeep at all times. "Knew you'd already have all I needed, boy." He was smirking slightly at his own ingenuity. "Heel," he ordered as he moved past Stiles, deeper into the home, stopping beneath the large archway that separated what used to be the dining room and living room. Normally he would simply command Stiles to 'wait' while he got their environment set up, but not today. Today Stiles deserved all the punishment Peter could throw at him. "Middle of the archway. Endure."

His breath hitched in his throat at the last command. Fuck, he hated this position. No matter how often Peter put him in it, he never seemed to get any stronger or better at taking it. Stiles did as he was told, though, and silently prayed that he would be allowed to stand again soon.

Peter took his time wrapping the bungee cords in a long strip of duct tape, reducing their ability to stretch significantly. He wrapped up four and lazily tossed the fifth aside, perhaps for later use. Using his remarkable strength, he dug one hook from each cord into each corner of the frame, two on the top at opposite ends, and two near the floor opposite of each other. 

Stiles crouched on the balls of his feet in the center of the frame while Peter worked, legs open wide and fingers laced behind his head with his elbows pointed straight out. His ankles, thighs, and back were screaming by the time his Alpha commanded he stand, but he didn't make a sound, didn't raise a single complaint.

He looked so smug by now, rig all set up and just waiting for his bitch boy to get in. Peter tightly fastened a cable tie around each wrist and ankle, and hooked the unoccupied ends of each cord into a tie. The hooks on Stiles's wrists pointed inwards, causing the sharp end to dig into where wrist meets hand if he let his hands go slack at all.

Stiles gripped the cords, attempting to use them to keep his skin from getting damaged, and Peter let him. He would be too tired to hold on soon enough anyway.

Peter took a moment to admire Stiles, spread eagle, bound by makeshift devices because fuck, Stiles had hurt him too badly to deserve toys or gentle bindings. His boy's body was already dirty with the general grime of the house, and it made Peter stiffen just the slightest. "How do you feel?" 

The younger man could tell that the question took on a different tone than he was used to - Peter wasn't checking to make sure he was doing okay, not like he usually did. No, Peter wanted to make sure that Stiles was uncomfortable, on edge and struggling already. And if Stiles was being honest, he was. He swallowed thickly, trying to make his dry throat willing to produce sound again. Missing lunch was already starting to take a toll. "It... it's a lot less..." he searched for the right word. "It's not as supportive as usual, Alpha. Much harder to maintain than the frame at home."

"Home?" It was almost a growl. "You mean _my apartment_ , which is not my _home_ , and it most certainly isn't _yours_. This is my home, boy, and you ought to feel honored to be standing in it at all."

His response was automatic, "I'm sorry, Alpha, I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant, and I didn't ask you. You will keep your bitch mouth shut unless you are asked to speak, or I will cover your mouth and nose in duct tape and poke tiny holes through which you will breathe. Do you understand me?"

Stiles hardened at the threat, but his fear became considerably more palpable. "Yes, Alpha."

Peter gave a small grunt, acknowledging the boy's response but certainly not letting him hear his Alpha sound pleased yet. "Do you know why you're being punished, boy?"

He only nodded.

An annoyed sigh. "I asked you a question, you moronic cunt. Answer it. With your mouth."

"Y- yes, yes, Alpha. I'm being punished because I spoke disrespectfully." 

That was a start. "And?" Peter hoped the boy would realize there was more to it on his own.

"And..." Stiles hadn't meant to withhold any of his answer, but the way his legs were aching made it hard to think clearly. "And because I disobeyed an order without reason or proper communication."

A nod. "Both of those things are serious infractions. But what else?"

Stiles furrowed his brow, mind searching feverishly for an answer. He was coming up blank.

"Boy?" his annoyance was increasing.

"I... I'm sorry, Alpha. I don't know." He looked so worried, so scared of what would happen because of what he had forgotten.

Peter's anger was reinvigorated, certainly, but he wasn't terribly surprised that Stiles was so completely oblivious to his feelings. He clicked his tongue and slowly, slow enough for Stiles to see clearly and anticipate, brought his hand to the boy's throat. "Such a self-absorbed little brat, aren't you? I suppose it shouldn't surprise me, young sluts like you always are. Doesn't come naturally to your partially-formed brain yet. You need to be trained on how to be more considerate."

Stiles swallowed, and Peter could feel his Adam's apple bob under his hand. 

Good. He didn't respond. "Don't you, boy?"

"Yes, Alpha."

Perfect. So very perfect that it almost made Peter calm down. Almost.

"I'm going to fuck you, boy. Do you have a problem with that?"

"No, Alpha."

Right answer. If Stiles had denied him now... Peter shook his head at the thought. "I've only got the packet of lube I happen to keep in my wallet at all times," he informed. "Do you want me to use it now, or later?"

Stiles swallowed hard. "N- now, Alpha." There was a chance that Peter might be calmer later, that whatever this vicious streak was would still enough he wouldn't threaten to take Stiles dry. 

Peter scraped his nails down his boy's throat, releasing his grip and dragging his hand down Stiles's chest as nails became claws, leaving lines of beading red in their wake. When his hands reached the boy's navel, he pulled one hand off and held the other on tightly as he slowly circled him, scratches becoming gouges wrapping around one side of his waist.

His whine became a genuine yell as the depth increased, and Stiles was sweating and flinching away by the time Peter reached his spine. He was so sure that he was an inch away from calling their safeword, but as he felt blood gently cascading over his hip, his thoughts stilled, and he felt a little more serene again.

"I'm going to use your blood to wet you when I'm out of lube. I'll give you one opportunity to change your mind - do you want it now, or later?"

"Now, Alpha, please," his voice was shaky under the weight of the pain spreading through his torso, but he sounded certain.

Very well. Peter would have chosen the other way around, figuring the boy was much more capable of the blood loss now than he would be as the afternoon and night dragged on. But he wasn't about to argue, the boy had made up his mind and he still had a right to that. For now. He spent little time preparing Stiles, fingering him languidly after freeing his own cock from his trousers but not undressing any further. The small attention he gave was mostly for his own amusement, and when that wore off, he went in for the kill.

Stiles gave a loud, low groan as Peter slid into him, the noise an indistinguishable mess of pain, pleasure, and relief. He was fully hard by the time his Alpha had finished pushing deep inside of him - Peter's monster of a cock had the tendency to do that to him.

It was only a few slow, deep thrusts before Peter stilled himself, hand coming to wrap around Stiles's throat once again. "I'm going to ask you one more time, boy. You have one more chance to get this right. What else did you do to deserve punishment?"

He hardly thought about it, he knew he had already plunged the depths of his memory and he knew it was blank. "I don't know, Alpha, I'm sorry." And in this moment, Peter taking him slow and sweet, he wasn't terribly concerned with the consequences. Peter may have been a bit more bloodthirsty than usual, but the fear Stiles had of him had all but faded until after his answer had already left his lips.

"That's too bad, boy," Peter's voice was deadly low, it made Stiles alert and his skin crawl. The boy couldn't see it, but that was the last straw. Peter's eyes went blue, and they wouldn't be coming back any time soon.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm a Peter mun who loves this gorgeous, dysfunctional Steter relationship just as much as you do. *waves*  
> Don't mind me, I'm just here to give you a little bit more of Peter's point of view. This is Chapter 1.1 so to say.

Peter checked his reflection one last time in the mirror and grinned, picking up his second cup of coffee that morning and his phone to check on his baby boy.

[Peter]: You better be keeping that plug in all day, boy. I filled you so full this morning, Scott's nostrils will burn with my scent if you take it out.

His wolf was definitely liking that idea, but after his last encounter with the true alpha who happened to be his boyfriend’s overprotective best friend, more teasing was probably a bad idea. Peter didn’t mind ducking a few hits here and there but Scott had threatened to talk to the Sheriff. And getting shot with rock salt and wolfsbane hurt like a bitch.

His mind was about to wander further, wondering how his little favourite masochistic sub would like pain like that when said boy replied.

[Baby Boy]: Oh fuck. Yes, sir.

Good boy. Peter took a sip from his coffee.

[Peter]: Good boy.

He got a reply immediately - of course, Stiles was always texting during Homeroom; and yes, Peter knew his schedule by now, the wolf had a lot of free time, okay? - and chuckled as he settled down on his huge leather couch. It still smelled of popcorn, sex and distinctively Stiles. Peter felt his soft cock twitch at the memory.

[Baby Boy]: I think Lydia knows I'm texting you. She's giving me this really annoyed look.

Maybe he should tease his boy a little, he really enjoyed it whenever he got Stiles hot and bothered and maybe jealous at the same time.

[Peter]: Lydia Martin. Remarkably good kisser.

[Baby Boy]: Like you would know?

Peter smirked smugly and tried to reply just as quickly.

[Peter]: Of course I would. She resurrected me, you know. It wasn't all herbs and abracadabra.

Which definitely wasn’t a lie, he and Lydia definitely had a connection. A very physical one though, nothing that could be compared to how he felt about Stiles. 

[Baby Boy]: Oh, what, did it take True Love's Kiss too?

[Peter]: No. But she did fall in love with me in the process.

Okay, _that_ was stretching the truth maybe a little. Lydia had fallen for his massive dick and his skill in bed that surpassed any high school boy by a long shot. But they were teasing, Peter could basically taste the salt in Stiles’s replies and it felt really damn good to be wanted. To cause jealousy in the boy he still thought sometimes he loved more than was possible, really.

[Baby Boy]: Bullshit. Lydia has better taste than to fall for you.

[Baby Boy]: Oh, wait, I forgot about Jackson. I guess she doesn't.

Rude. Peter pouted playfully, even though Stiles couldn’t see him. But he still couldn’t stop grinning, knowing that his boy only responded so harshly because his teasing was working. Time to tone it down a notch; there was no point in fighting if they couldn’t have angry sex immediately after. And Stiles was a lot better at that than Lydia, for the record.

[Peter]: You better watch your tongue, boy. And I assure you, we did a lot more than kiss. But sadly the way she uses her lips is the only truly remarkable thing about her.

No reply. Peter frowned. He waited a few minutes in case Stiles had just gotten busy with a teacher but then he decided to check in, just in case. Sometimes things got lost via text message.

[Peter]: What? Did I say something wrong?

But really, it was probably nothing. Stiles was friends with Lydia, there was no way he would act out. Speaking of friends… Peter snickered.

[Peter]: Oh, that's right, you used to have a crush on her, didn't you?

[Baby Boy]: No, I didn't have a crush on her. I was in love with her. Big difference.

The wolf stared at his phone screen and swallowed. Love? Really? Stiles hadn’t touched that word with a ten foot pole in their relationship so far but he had been _in love_ with Lydia Martin, a girl who had ignored him half his life? Something in Peter’s chest tightened but he tried to ignore it and typed out a dry response. 

[Peter]: Ah, love, of course. My mistake. Well, if it makes you feel better, she wasn't a virgin. Not like you were the first time I knotted you.

Hopefully that would get across that Stiles was far more special without them talking about feelings. Wolves didn’t just knot every partner they had.

[Baby Boy]: I still love her, so it fucking stings that you were closer to her than I'll ever be. But whatever, I'll get over it. You're my Alpha.

Wait, what? The coffee mug made a quiet cracking sound in Peter’s hand as the wolf gripped it a little bit too tightly. Stiles still _loved_ Lydia fucking Martin? A growl sneaked out of Peter’s throat and suddenly he felt like the tables had been turned. And he was on the losing end. Stiles hadn’t reacted so pissed to his teasing because he wanted Peter for himself, he had been upset about Lydia. Great.

Peter rolled his shoulders to get rid of the sudden tension in his body but it was no use. He’d just stay the “Creeperwolf” forever, wouldn’t he? Their relationship was purely sexual, he was the dom who satisfied Stiles’s deepest, darkest needs. But he wasn’t the person his boy loved. Just an experienced guy who looked decent and happened to be willing. Goddammit.

[Peter]: Do you, boy? Then why don't you tell her?

No, he definitely wouldn’t show that he was hurt. Love was a bullshit concept anyway, all that weakness, no control… Peter slammed his coffee down and got up to splash some cold water in his face.

[Baby Boy]: It isn't the right time. I'm with you now. If it's meant to be, it'll happen someday. I'm not in a hurry.

[Peter]: 'Someday?'

Oh wasn’t this just peachy, no he actually got to just wait for Stiles to drop him? Lydia was smart and she had eyes, she’d figure out sooner or later that Stiles was the best boyfriend and partner she could ever have.

[Baby Boy]: Yeah, as in not today, maybe never.

[Peter]: Yes, I own a dictionary, I understand the meaning of the word, thank you.

He would not show weakness. Absolutely not. Stiles was a kid, he was not supposed to have such an impact on Peter. No one was.

[Baby Boy]: Oh, you do? Cool. Could you look up the word 'twat'? I think you'll find it very enlightening.

[Peter]: What did you just say to me?

Okay _that_ was definitely going to far. Peter’s mouth turned up into an ugly snarl and he glared at his phone. No one, not even the stupid kid he happened to love was allowed to talk to him like that. Especially not that stupid kid. Stiles owed him respect, at least that he had made clear before. And the boy had one chance to correct himself.

[Baby Boy]: Oh, sorry, didn't realize you were at the age where your vision starts to go. I'd be happy to say it to you in person later so that you can understand. Unless you're having trouble with your hearing too?

It took Peter quite a bit of self control not to crush his phone in his fist. Did that little fucker really think he could treat him like that?

But the wolf refused to punish out of anger immediately. He was the Alpha, the dominant, he had a responsibility towards his submissive, no matter how deep or not so deep their relationship was after all. Instead, Peter calmed himself down with some deep breaths and giving himself a few minutes to think before he decided how he wanted to handle this.

[Peter]: Take the plug out. Now. You don't deserve to still have me inside of you.

[Baby Boy]: No. I like where it is.

Peter could feel his eyes light up in cold blue.

[Peter]: Out.

[Baby Boy]: You're not even here, so I think I'll just keep doing whatever I want.

Okay, that was it. _Fuck being responsible._ He was a monster after all, right? The bad guy. The villain. The one who always lost.

Peter grabbed his keys and left his apartment. No weakness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having some writers block today so here's the first (and shorter) part of this chapter. The rest of it will be chapter six, so the story has been lengthened to at least 7 chapters.

His need to own Stiles was far greater than his need to punish as memories of the morning’s conversation returned. The wolf inside of him was desperate to tear out of Peter’s human flesh and own and claim and  _ take _ but Peter bit it back, stayed in control despite the heaving of his chest, and the subconscious way his claws were growing, digging into the boy’s soft hips.   
  
“Alpha,” Stiles whined softly. He knew he wasn’t supposed to speak, but the pain was getting too much. He wanted this, wanted to be completely wrecked by Peter, but he needed build up. Needed the endorphins to start flowing before he could handle such brutal pain, and if his Alpha wasn’t more careful he’d have to call the scene.

 

If only it were a scene.

  
The word was enough, made Peter notice himself and his claws retreated. Warnings were okay, he decided. Warnings would keep his boy going longer and he wanted that, wanted this to drag out as long as the fragile human body could stand. He wrapped his arms around Stiles’s torso, claws scraping only gently at his abdomen and pectoral as he fucked up into the bound and moaning boy. A quick round, just to fill Stiles full and make his wolf shut up so he could get down to the real business, to teaching the boy a lesson.   
  
“Are you even thinking of me?” He growled low into Stiles’s ear, “You can’t even see my face, so I suppose you could be thinking of anyone, couldn’t you?” He sounded bitter.   
  
That caught the boy off guard, he furrowed his brow and tried to focus enough on the question at hand to answer him. It was difficult with the way the ties were digging in and cutting his wrists and the heavenly slide of Peter’s cock so deep inside of him.  _ Is… is he insecure? Why the fuck would he ever be insecure?  _ He was too distracted, given not enough information yet, to put the pieces together. “Of course, Alpha. I’m always thinking of you. Even when I’m alone, it’s only you.” It was true, Stiles had hardly been able to get Peter out of his head for months, and Peter’s conditioning, training his pup to associate sexual pleasure with him, it had been working like a dream.   
  
He groaned, pleased at the truthfulness in Stiles’s heartbeat. That was some consolation, at least. Peter had to tease further, though. Had to push and prod and make sure the boy wasn’t just forgetting something. “Is that so? Only me?” He sounded unconvinced. “No, no I don’t buy it. You must have thought of my nephew? Wondered if he’s big like me? Vicious like me? If his youth makes him even harder to endure?”   
  
“No, fuck,” he panted, mind wanting to surrender to his body, upset at having to continue to work to form words. “No, Alpha. Don’t want Derek. Never wanted Derek,” he insisted.   
  
“Mmm,” he hummed, claws gripping a little tighter. “Scott, then? Everyone wants Scott. And I mean _ everyone. _ ” He let Stiles come to his own conclusion about whether or not that included his Alpha. “I know he was kind of a loser before I came along, but these days… Certainly you must wonder how he uses his features differently? What use he’s found for  _ his _ teeth and  _ his  _ claws?”   
  
“No!” Stiles hated that, hated thinking about Scott, hated other people thinking about Scott. “Never, not once, not even before.” But the idea that… that maybe Peter had? He gave a pitiful whine, born from a pain that had nothing to do with what his Alpha was doing to his body.

Peter was pleased so far, all of his answers had been truthful. He wouldn’t have been terribly bothered if Stiles had thought about Derek or Scott. Young boys like him tended to have wandering eyes, and Peter was secure in his status when compared to the lesser wolves. But there was one more question, one he had to ask despite, or maybe because of, how difficult the answer might be.

  
“Really, no one?” And then his voice became quiet and he whispered right into the boy’s ear, close and with a hand over his heart. “Not even Lydia Martin?”   
  
Stiles was quiet for a split second as the pieces clicked into place, and finally he understood what all this was about. He answered as soon as he remembered to, he could dwell on the implications when his Alpha wasn’t looking to punish him for his silence. “No, Alpha, no, not even Lydia. Never. Just you, I swear Alpha, only you. I only ever think about you, I only ever want you.”

“Good boy,” he offered the slightest praise. It was the truth. The boy lusted after him and him alone, even if his heart… Another growl, Peter’s wolfish teeth scraping along Stiles’s neck as jealousy surged through him in a wave.   
  
“Aaah, Alph-” he had sounded so pleased, about to beg for something Peter was sure, but he was smart and shut his mouth. Talking was not allowed.   
  
Peter knew, though, what the boy wanted, and teasing him was all too easy. “Oh, what is it, bitch? Want my claim? Want my  _ bite _ ?”   
  
Stiles nodded, a soft, “Yes, yes, Alpha, please,” panted out. He was always a slut for those teeth. It was only through expert wound care that he managed to not be littered with scars.   
  
“Think I can just bite you and fuck you and that will sate my wrath? Think I’ll consider your lesson learned and end the pain?” His hips never stopped moving, gentle slides becoming more rapid pounding as he continued.   
  
“N- no, no, please, Alpha, no. Want you to punish me, teach me, _ break me _ , please Alpha. This isn’t enough, not near enough, please!” Because fuck, every time Peter broke him and built him back up, he was left happier and more whole in the aftermath. Peter had managed to train the insecurity out of him, not once in the last month had he been jealous of Scott or irritated by their comparative popularity. Stiles didn’t think Peter ever  _ planned _ it that way, but between his growing self-esteem and his increasing infatuation with his Alpha, there just wasn’t room for it anymore. It was why he pushed Peter this morning, to get exactly this. His unrequited love for Lydia would be harder to cut out of him, Stiles was sure, but if Peter could do it? The liberation would be worth anything. The newly-discovered fact that Peter felt… jealous or insecure about Stiles’s feelings for her made him all the more certain that his Alpha could be successful.   
  
_ Break me.  _ The words were gasped, a plea on the tongue of the man he loved, and Peter groaned, wolf and man both eager to oblige. Stiles was going to be broken today anyway, whether he liked it or not. But hearing him ask for it? Fuck, that gave him ideas about how much more he could get away with. How much more it would actually take to break his little bitch boy down. He was shaking Stiles’s body now with the force of thrusting into him, and he made no attempt to temper or hold back his orgasm. He wanted to get down to the real fun. And for Peter, indulging wrath was always,  _ always _ more fun than indulging lust.   
  
Stiles let out a strange, grateful sob of a noise as he felt Peter filling him, hot and slick, cock twitching before it fell away from his body. He was hard, so fucking hard for and from his Alpha, but he knew it would be ages still until he would be allowed release too. If Peter was particularly cruel, he might not even get off before he went home.   



	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's where the brief non-con comes in. Stiles flatly loses his ability to consent, and despite probably knowing better, Peter doesn't stop right away.

“Oh, look at that,” Peter’s tone was almost amused. “Seems I’m getting hard again. Must be that pathetic way your cock is straining against your new ring.” He ran a hand over the underside of his boy’s balls, which were now secured tightly against his painfully hard cock with a cable tie. His eyes traveled up the lithe form, over scratches and blood, dirt and blossoming bruises from where Peter had gripped him too tight, coming to land on the daisy-chain of cable ties loosely fitted around Stiles’s neck. “I’ve made you into art, boy. What do you say to that?”   
  
“Thank you, Alpha,” his voice was weak, strained as his hips shuddered. The tie around his cock, pushing his own soft flesh against the hard member, just barely managed to fool his brain into thinking he could get some contact, friction, anything. But no matter how pathetically his hips jumped, he wouldn’t be getting any satisfaction anytime soon.   
  
A sadistic smile. “You’re welcome, slut.” Peter ran his fingers over a still-bloody cut and brought them to his lips, licking them off before continuing. “What do you think I should do about how hard I’m getting, boy? I suppose I could just use my hand.”   
  
“No, Alpha, please,” his brows furrowed with worry. Stiles was exhausted from standing with his arms held taught. Pain rippled through his body, from his sore feet to his understimulated cock, over his torn and abused flesh, and weaved through the expended muscles of his arms and the hooks digging into his wrists. He hadn’t lost a lot of blood, certainly no more than half a pint, but combined with the taxing position of his body and the lack of food or water all day, his body required too much energy for his brain to keep properly functioning. He really believed Peter’s threat, that he wouldn’t touch him, and it made tears well in his eyes.   
  
The sight was beautiful. He was going to make Stiles cry for him. “No?” He palmed himself through his pants. “Why not? What should I be doing?”   
  
“F- fuck me, please Alpha, please fuck me.”   
  
“But I’m all out of lube, won’t that hurt?” His concern was obviously mocking.   
  
“Yes. I want it anyway, please, Alpha.”   
  
“You want to be my little cumdumpster? A repository for my seed, a convenient sheath for my cock?”

“Yes! Yes, Alpha, please!” It was the first time his voice had been strong in over an hour. Peter had to bite back a pleased groan at the enthusiasm.   
  
“Just dying for me to fill you up, aren’t you baby boy? Always such a pathetic, needy cunt for me.”   
  
“Oh fuck, yes, yes, Alpha,” his hips rocked, body so eager for something that felt good for a change.

“No.” Peter was strong.   
  
Stiles whined, careful to hold on to all the real words he wanted to say. Peter had told him not to speak unless asked.   
  
“You don’t deserve it. You don’t deserve to be a dumping ground for my wolf’s needs. You don’t deserve to have my seed splattered across your face, let alone the satisfaction of being bred by me.”

He let out a breath even more ragged, lip quivering as he fought to keep quiet.   
  
“You look like you want to beg.” It was a matter-of-fact statement.   
  
Stiles did not mistake it for a question. He only nodded his response.   
  
“Do it, cunt. Beg for your Alpha.” Peter was prepared to make him do this until his voice ran hoarse if he had to, but he hoped the boy would push the right buttons sooner rather than later.   
  
“Pl-” his voice cracked, throat tight as he felt on the verge of sobbing. He couldn’t even understand how badly he wanted Peter, but the denial was destroying him. He cleared his throat, tried to start again. “Please, Alpha. Please. I want you to rip me open. Want you to fuck me until I’m loose and bleeding. I know I don’t deserve it, not good enough, please. Let me try. Let me try to be good for you, let me show you how much of you I can hold.” Stiles may have been out of it, but he had Peter’s desires memorized even better than his own, and he used that knowledge to his advantage.   
  
Peter inhaled slowly, doing his best to keep his composure. He palmed himself again and narrowed his eyes. No, it was not going to be so easy. Not for the man who had hurt him so deeply, considered him an object of satisfaction even as Peter welcomed him into his home and heart. “Keep your arms up until I tell you otherwise.” The warning hardly gave Stiles time to brace himself, to hold his arms up under their own power, before Peter pulled and unhooked the cords attaching him to the archway. Only once they were both detached did he give the next order. “Kneel.”   
  
Stiles sobbed, but in relief this time as he dropped to his knees. He winced harshly as his stiffened joints were forced into a new position, but the lack of pressure on his shoulders, the way his legs could relax, it was heaven. He took up the position he’d been trained for, sitting on his feet and tucking his arms behind his back, so each hand was on the opposite elbow. He raised his head, attentive to his Alpha.   
  
Peter retrieved himself from his trousers, thick cock just inches from Stiles’s face as he stroked himself languidly. “I’m going to touch myself. If you can convince me to fuck your sloppy cunt before I come all over your face, then I will. You may begin now.”

His mind took a moment to catch up to what Peter had just said to him, and mouth another moment still. The haze caused by pain was now replaced with a haze of endorphins and relief, and fuck, he was getting hungry. Belatedly, as Peter stroked himself mesmerizingly before his eyes, Stiles tried again. “Please, Alpha, please fuck me. Bend me over and mount me like the worthless bitch that I am. It’s where I belong - with you,” a slip of the tongue he tried to correct, but a bit too late, “uh, under you. I belong under you, Alpha, always. Just you, only you, ever.”   
  
His mouth was dry, and even speech was becoming physically difficult. With dehydration solidly setting in, even tears were hard to come by. “You’ve ruined me for everyone else, I know you have. I’m only good for serving you, Alpha, please let me. Please,” a choked sob escaped, interrupting his begging as he noticed Peter’s face, how close he was getting. He couldn’t fail at this, he felt desperate, as if this was the last opportunity he would ever have to make things right between them.

Peter carded his free hand through Stiles’s hair, petting and gripping as the boy begged for his cock. It was good, but he was determined not to give him what he wanted, not this time. Still, those words made Peter ache for more than just his hand. He moved his hand down, hooking a thumb around his Beta’s lip and prying his mouth open. 

It was dry and rough at first, but after a few shallow thrusts grazing the back of his throat, Stiles’s body found the necessary resources to slick up his mouth. This was a win, at least according to his morale, and Stiles sucked eagerly, bobbing his head and opening his mouth as wide as he could to accommodate his Alpha. The feeling of being used and loved drowned out all the pain, at least for now. 

Stepping forward, Peter positioned himself fully over Stiles, making the boy crane his neck as he pushed straight down. “Good slut,” he groaned as Stiles swallowed him, and Peter gripped his jaw as he began to truly fuck his throat.

He had done this enough times to know how to survive it easily by now. Stiles caught on to Peter’s rhythm, breathing in time with his thrusts, controlling his lungs consciously to keep from making them panic for air. The real trick, though, was simply surrendering. It wasn’t his job to work anymore, only to open up and accept Peter into the receptacle that was his body.   
  
But it wasn’t enough, not this time, not with how fully the sadistic monster inside of him was showing. Peter dipped a hand behind and between his legs, stroking the boy’s throat at an awkward angle for a brief second. He could feel the way Stiles’s neck stretched to accommodate him, and it made him all the more sure of next move. He gripped one of the cords of the daisy chain of cable ties and pulled, tightening more than enough to restrict the poor boy’s breath, never once missing a beat with his hips.   
  
Stiles’s eyes went wide with the plastic digging into his neck. He could no longer draw in an entire breath when Peter pulled up, his windpipe too constricted. He gripped at Peter’s thighs, scared and gasping, almost choking, but Peter didn’t let up, didn’t slow or even speed up, just kept fucking into him as if nothing had changed. His heart raced and his lungs fluttered, giving into the panic that he’d trained himself so well to avoid. His peripheral vision went black, and almost all at once, his body quit fighting it.   
  
Peter looked down, checking the boy’s face when grasping hands suddenly fell limp, but Stiles was still very much awake, looking back up at him with impossibly large pupils and complete surrender in every bit of his being. He was broken, and it was  _ fucking perfect. _ It didn’t take much longer at all before he lost it, so wrapped up in how fully and completely he owned Stiles, how he could probably kill the boy if he wanted to and he would just let him. Thick strands of his seed flooded down his Beta’s throat, his cock pulsing and twitching with each wave. As he pulled out, he used a claw to sever the chain of cable ties, allowing Stiles full access to air all at once.

Stiles coughed and gasped, but it seemed mostly reflex. His body was still slack, back slouched and arms limp. When he had caught his breath, he looked up to Peter again, silently awaiting… something.   
  


“That’s a good boy, Stiles,” Peter offered him his favorite reward, a bit of praise. When Stiles kept just staring, Peter furrowed his brow, but kept wearing a smirk. “Your father is a proud man, boy. I’ve known him for years - longer than you have, even. How he managed to produce a pathetic, fragile, broken little bitch like you, I’ll never understand.” He hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe it was your mother’s fault?”   
  
Slowly,  _ ‘hey, that’s not very nice’  _ leisurely strolled through his mind, but somehow he couldn’t really care. Maybe he was weak, maybe it was his parents’ fault. Who was he to argue? “Yes, sir. They made me weak. Only you can make me strong.” but his voice seemed far away.   
  
“Shit.” Peter was irritated. He’d never seen this look on Stiles, but it was one that, if he were honest with himself, he’d recognized even while he was busy wrecking his throat. He growled and took Stiles roughly by the jaw. “Are you really so fucking weak? How fucking dare you.”   
  
Stiles gave a little whimper, his brow furrowing. He didn’t want his Alpha to be mad. It was all he cared about. “I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry. Tell me how to be better, please.”   
  
He watched Stiles carefully, a war raging inside of him over what to do next. He hadn’t been finished, not nearly. He had so much more pain to inflict, so much more rage to exorcise. But his boy just sat there, weak and pliant and Peter knew damn well he literally couldn’t even fight for his own life at this point. He was too far gone.   
  
The Alpha inside of him won. Sure, he wasn’t technically an Alpha anymore, but that didn’t change a damn thing, not when it came to Stiles. Stiles was his Beta. Discipline was important, but nothing could ever be more important than keeping him safe. Continuing when Stiles was unable to even have limits, let alone express them? It would easily rank among the most disgraceful things Peter Hale had ever done. With a long, heavy sigh, Peter dropped to his knees, making himself eye level with him. “Boy. Boy, look at me.” His voice was soft again, for the first time since the night before.   
  
It was something of a struggle, but he did as he was told, making his eyes focus on Peter’s. That tone felt good, and warmth spread in his chest.   
  
Peter smiled when Stiles looked at him - a real, happy smile, no cruelty lurking under the surface. He slipped a finger under the boy’s chin and gently guided them together, kissing him softly at first, but with slowly building intensity. It wasn’t an owning or a claiming kind of kiss, not this time. It was made of love and protection and a tenderness that surprised the both of them.

As slowly as the kiss built, Stiles came back. He straightened, and then lifted his hands to clutch Peter’s shirt, and before long he was pouring himself into the kiss as much as Peter was. This kiss was life, and love, and everything that has ever been good. He didn’t stop until Peter rather firmly pushed away, more than once.   
  
Waiting for Stiles to catch his breath again, and to smile like he was human again, Peter praised him. “You did very well for me, boy.” A twinge of self-doubt struck the corner of his mind. Maybe he had gone too far. As much as they pretended, Stiles was not a wolf. “I’m very proud,” he pushed on. “I’m taking you home now. To  _ our _ home. And I’m going to take care of you until every scratch has healed. Is that okay with you?”   
  
Stiles nodded, still a little out of it from the physical exhaustion, and more than a little needy and clingy from the emotional expenditure.   
  
Peter used a claw to sever the cable ties around Stiles’s limbs, and the one that served as a makeshift cock ring, before scooping him up in his arms and getting to his feet. Stiles held tight as he was carried to the car.

He insisted on more kisses on the way there, which made the journey a little difficult for Peter, who needed to not trip over forest debris, but who obliged none the less. When Peter settled him into the passenger seat, he insisted on even more before he would let his Alpha go to the driver’s side, and then still more before he would allow the car to be started. 

  
The whole drive home, Peter had to tell him no, no kisses while he’s driving, it’s too distracting. It made Stiles pout, but even so, he couldn’t take the risk. He made up for it tenfold when they were finally home though, obliging every request, all through food time and bath time, and even text-your-friends-you’re-safe time. Stiles couldn’t get enough, and if this was what rebounding from subspace was going to look like, Peter was more than content to add it to their aftercare ritual.


	7. Chapter 7

It was twilight when Peter came back into his bedroom, bearing tea. Stiles had napped after the wolf had fed and bathed him and made sure Scott wouldn’t come sniffing around. Peter gently took a seat on the bed beside Stiles, setting the tea on the bedside table, and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Boy,” his voice was soft, but it was enough to wake him.

Slowly, Stiles lifted his eyelids and smiled up at his alpha. He pushed himself up to sit, making a small noise as he went. His body wouldn't be right for days. He went in for a kiss before saying a word, still craving them in his soul. Peter obliged him only briefly before taking his chin into his hand and forcing the boy to stop.

“We have to talk about today,” he informed as he took the tea again and handed it to Stiles. There wasn’t really an option in the gesture or the sentence, so Stiles took them both without resistance.

“I’m sorry,” it was the first real thing out of his mouth since it happened, all conversation earlier had only been chatting or talk about what to eat or how he liked his bath. Peter hadn't pushed him to talk about this afternoon, knew he needed to give the boy time to process and recover.

“Shh.” That, too, was not a suggestion. “I know, and it’s over and done with and behind us.”

“Well… then…” he looked confused. “What do you want me to say?”

Peter pushed gently at the mug, a reminder, and Stiles took a deep drink from it. “Do you know why I reacted how I did?” Best to just start from the beginning, right?

“Because... “ he had to think about it a moment. This afternoon was so fuzzy. “Because… you were…” He almost didn’t want to say it. It wasn’t a word you used for Peter Hale. “Insecure?”

The werewolf sighed in frustration, but much more so at himself than Stiles. “Yes. That’s… that’s a large part of it. I thought we were having fun, and when you said that you used to love her.” He had to pause, had to keep the animal in check. “It stopped being fun. When you said that you still love her, it hurt. I felt like toy, Stiles. I felt like here I was, opening my home to you, considering myself your partner, and you were just here to pass the time until she was ready to look at you. This all means so much to me. More than I've ever properly expressed, and that's... something I'm going to get better at.”

Stiles was staring into his cup, listening and thinking deeply about what Peter was saying. “And I’m sure the fact that I was being a total brat on top of it all didn’t help.”

“No, it really didn’t.” He dared a small smile.

“So… you punished me.” It made perfect sense, and it was, after all, exactly what Stiles had intended to get. He just… hadn’t really understood the gravity of his desires.

“Yes. Well, no.” Another sigh. “I did punish you, but I also went too far.” It almost hurt to admit, but he had to put the wolf’s pride aside. He wasn’t just an alpha, he was Stiles’s dominant. He made a mistake, and he knew all too well that good dominants admit their mistakes and work to rebuild trust.

They were both quiet for a moment, Stiles processing and reflecting, Peter wishing there was more he could say that would matter.

“I… I don’t feel… like you did?” Was that okay? Was it fucked up that he was okay with what had happened?

Peter pushed at the cup again, and again Stiles took a drink. They were both silent another moment.

“Do you remember everything that happened?” He truly wasn’t sure, if Stiles thought he was okay with all of… that.

“Yeah. I mean… I think so? I guess if I forgot something, I wouldn’t remember it…” He scraped his teeth over his lip. “But I remember the thing I think you’re so worried about. The part where I couldn’t breathe?” Admittedly, it was fuzzy. Like the morning after too much drinking. But he remembered.

Peter seemed relieved to hear it and nodded. “Okay, yes. Good. And you’re okay with that?”

“Well… I don’t think I’d want to do it again.” He would, but right now the aftermath was too much to let him see it. “And it wasn’t exactly what I had in mind… actually, I didn’t have anything specific in mind, so of course it wasn’t. But I…” he sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I pushed you on purpose, Peter. I wanted you to go farther than you ever had, I wanted to piss you off so you’d… so it would be real, not a scene. And it worked, and… okay, yeah, it… today was a lot, maybe too much in a couple ways. But I had to learn that for myself, and I knew as well as I could have what I was getting into.”

He soaked all of that in, watching Stiles with a skeptical look. “You… you pushed me on purpose?”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah. I mean, not… not with the Lydia stuff. That really did hurt, and I know it shouldn’t but it does. But the other stuff? Insulting you, being an asshole? Yeah, that was definitely on purpose.”

Peter blinked a few times. “Why… on Earth…” he was bewildered. That boy knew what he could be like when he got wrathful. Why would he encourage that?

“Because I like it when you break me, Peter.” Such a simple answer.

A strange look spread on Peter’s face, like he was hurt and concerned and wanted more all at once, but not at all in a masochistic way. It made Stiles’s stomach tense, his brow knit with worry that there was, in fact, something very wrong with liking what Peter did to him.

“I’m sorry. Am I not supposed to? Oh God, I’m such a freak,” Stiles looked away, ashamed, but Peter cupped his cheek in a hand before he could fully turn away, and pulled his gaze back.

“You’re mine,” it was possessive, but soft and gentle. A reassurance even more than a claim.

Stiles swallowed hard and nodded. “Yours.”

Peter took the cup and put it aside, and studied his beta for a long moment. Stiles didn’t move an inch, just watched him, memorized his features for the thousandth time.

“Boy,” it had a hint of authority to it, but still so soft.

“Yes, Alpha?” God, he wanted to surge forward and kiss him, to feel that reassurance that everything was okay, that Peter had him and would always have him, always pick him back up no matter what broke him, even if Stiles broke himself. He restrained himself for the time being, had to be a good boy, had to listen.

Peter’s hands were shaking as the words gathered in his throat. They wouldn’t come out, wouldn’t let him take that plunge into vulnerability. Once it was out, he could never take it back, never pretend it wasn’t real. He hesitated for too long.

Stiles bit into his lip, brows furrowing again and this time tears were welling in his eyes. He couldn’t do uncertainty, not right now, not with Peter. “Please, Alpha, what is it? I’m yours, forever, you can say anything to me.” His voice had a whimper to it.

Like a switch flipped or a lock opened, in an instant he could do it. He could do it because with his beta, his true beta, this wasn’t vulnerability. It was strength.

“I love you, Stiles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin.  
> Comments and feedback welcome.
> 
> For more with this Peter and Stiles, check out the collection this work belongs to. All of it fits within the same continuity (although is not necessarily in chronological order).


End file.
